


(Cheese) Dust in the Wind

by anxiousAnarchist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-17
Updated: 2011-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousAnarchist/pseuds/anxiousAnarchist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Karkat grocery shopping together is a very bad idea but they do it every week anyway. (Teen for the swears.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Cheese) Dust in the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Warning - this is stupid. I am so very sorry.  
> Idea shamelessly stolen from schellibie and urbananchorite on Tumblr.

John wrote a list on his arm but it's raining so it's washed off.

"Guess we'll have to improvise!" he says, and smiles at you. You're pretty sure that smiles like that are forbidden by the Geneva Convention or some shit, whatever that means.

"You realize we're going to end up buying a lot of crap and then Rose is going to come over sometime and look in the kitchen and we're going to get another half hour lecture on the food pyramid and gluten-free shit and organic fucking produce, right?" you say, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

He threads his arm around yours like he's not even embarrassed to be seen with you in public. "Karkat, you worry way too much!! You need to loosen up or something!"

No, you don't. You definitely don't. What you need to do, apparently, is have another conversation with John about public displays of affection and how they are totally stupid and not okay, you nooksniffing shithead because, do I really need to remind you John, how much I hate constantly turning ten fucking shades of red in front of everyone in the world? Because it's a lot. If you remember the last five thousand times we've had this conversation.

Jegus, he's leaning his head against your forehead as you make your way to the snack foods aisle.

Why is he doing this to you.

"Hey, stupid," you say. "Ranch or Nacho Cheese for the Doritos?"

"Oooh, we should get some of those reduced fat Doritos so we can tell Rose that we're totally eating healthy."

\---

You and John have five major food groups: Popcorn, Doritos, Cheetos, Twizzlers, and carbonated beverages.

You don't even care anymore that this is actually you scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of human cuisine.

When you moved in together, you spent approximately three hours attempting to cook and eat food like normal actual real adults, like "grownups who totally don't sleep with nightlights or anything!!" but then you both discovered how hard it is to eat something that requires a fork and knife while watching a movie and that was pretty much the last straw right there.

You and John have perfected movie watching down to a science, you are both simply the best at it, and there can be no distractions from the total mind meld syncopated crying questions asking cruel jeering at human cinema thing you've got going on.

 

\---

You toss John a bag of Cheetos and he catches it in midair but it's not like that's impressive or anything, because he's only like a thousand feet tall.

"Okay, so, kettle corn or movie theater butter on the popcorn?" you ask.

"Dude, kettle corn all the way."

You wrinkle your nose. John's attempting to juggle several bags of chips and failing horribly. He does this every week. The chips get so broken up that you’ve both resorted to eating the little fractured bits out of a bowl, with spoons.

"Really? Kettle corn? I'm going to be picking sugary popcorn out of your hair for weeks because some of us can't actually aim for our mouths when we're eating."

John stops juggling, makes an attempt at deftly catching the bags and fails horribly, and pouts.

There is no facial expression John can make that doesn't send you into paroxysms of embarrassing fuzzy feelings. You shove those feelings into the darky abyss that is your soul, all the way down, into the sewer where a million lizards with Terezi-teeth eat weakness for sustenance.

"But we're watching all of the Meg Ryan movies tonight!!" he says. "All of them! You have to eat kettle corn when you're watching Sleepless in Seattle, it's a rule, and so there, we have to get the kettle corn."

"If Meg Ryan is anything like Troll Meg Ryan then I guess," you say, begrudgingly. You cannot argue with his flawless romcom snack food analysis. His brain constructs movie nights with the same terrifying precision Vriska constructs new situations to endanger everyone's lives, or Rose constructs a sweater.

He beams at you and your whole chest just sort of dissolves into a warm squishy thing because he's kind of the most adorable person on the planet, or whatever.

\---

The only fight you two ever had was over whether puffy or crunchy Cheetos were better. It lasted three days and ended in an armistice that saw Cheetos banished from the cupboard for a good two weeks.

Those were dark days.

\---

Your cashier is a teenage girl, all nose ring and raised eyebrows at your assortment of foods that are, truth be told, mostly orange-colored.

(If they had nose rings on Alternia you're pretty sure six sweeps old you would totally have found a way to get one.)

You're kind of smiling at John as he chatters cheerily with the amused check out girl and he catches you at it, smiles back, wiggles his eyebrows.

You try to suppress a laugh but can't quite manage it.

(When John discovered that him wiggling his eyebrows was one of the few things that would make you laugh, you spent three days in the endless hell that was him trying to find the most embarrassing place to make you laugh.)

You nudge his foot. "Cut it out, fuckass," you say.

He just rolls his eyes and tugs on the brim of your baseball cap. The cashier is smiling now, wide eyed happy though she's trying to hide it.

Well, of course she's happy. John has that effect on people. He's like the fucking Typhoid Mary of happiness or something, it's disgusting.

\---

The first time you ever held hands both of your fingers were covered in Dorito dust and popcorn butter. You were watching Con Air and at one point that stupid fucking song starts playing and you could hear John actually tearing up a little, sniffling and everything, and you just kind of put your hand on top of his and he grabbed it like he would drown if he didn't.

Your hands got stained orange and stayed all greasy the rest of the day and it was gross and horrible and totally fucking worth it.

\---

You try carrying the bulk of the groceries to the car but halfway through the parking lot John grabs the pack of soda from you.

"Karkat you are going to break yourself if you try and carry this much stuff!"

You're walking side by side. You bump into him as you meander down the pavement, and he bumps you back.

"I call first dibs on the Twizzlers," you say.

"You called dibs on the Twizzlers last week! Besides you always end up letting me eat them first anyway."

You bump him again. "Whatever, Egderp. It's only because I pity you and your limited understanding of truly great cinema. The Twizzlers are your consolation prize at the movie buff circus."

"Karkat I thought we talked about this, circuses don't _have_ winners and losers!"

The sun's setting. The sky's the color of Cheetos.


End file.
